Chapter Text
Chapter 4: Tell Me About Uncle Les
Long, long day --long week!-- at the factory for Davey. As he trudged up the final flight of stairs to his parents’ tenement, he breathed a sigh that at least he had gotten through one more day. One more day of this life under his belt. It felt at once a relief, but also a disappointment. What did he have to look forward to? Even the Sabbath evening was no longer the highlight of the week, as it once was.
Honestly, every day was the same. Monotonous work, then trudge home to a monotonous evening with his parents. The three of them never quite had anything to say to each other. Les, the life of the family, was often gone nowadays, and their mother silently fretted over his absence. So grief hung in the air of the Jacobs family home, laced with worry and disappointment. A bitter emotion for each of the Jacobs siblings. Davey was disappointment.
What did he have to look forward to? Well, in three days he'd be back at Jack's place, watching Rebecca. Kind of odd that his baby sitting “job” (and visiting with her father after?) had become the highlight of each week.
As he stepped off the staircase onto their landing, he heard a commotion beyond his parents’ closed door. He quickened his pace, fear rising to his throat. Was it his father's heart? An intruder? Davey threw open the door and stopped suddenly. Rebecca.
His heart lifted at the sight of the 5 year old. Rarely was she at his parents’ home, because Esther said it wasn’t a place for a child. Though what that meant, Davey didn’t know. But why was Rebecca crying? And Esther was trying to comfort her, but she too looked distressed. And where was Mayer?
“Is it Jack? What happened?” Davey shouted over the din, fear visible all over his face. At the sound of his voice, Rebecca turned. At seeing him, she rushed to Davey and leapt into his arms. With surprise, he crouched and held her, stroking her hair as he looked questioning at his mama. Rebecca's sobs had calmed, almost instantly.
Finally able to get a word in edgewise, Esther said, “Jack is fine.”
Davey collapsed onto the chair there in the living room, pulling Rebecca onto the chair with him. He was unaware that he had been holding his breath until he exhaled at that moment.
“So is your father,” Esther added. “I’ll get back to helping him with dinner.”
“Becky, what's going on?” He looked down at her, once it was just the two of them in the room.
“Daddy left me here tonight but you weren't here.”
Davey handed her his handkerchief, and she wiped up her tears and blew her nose. She seemed almost perfectly composed, which bewildered Davey to no end.
“Well, I wasn't home yet,” he explained. “But your bubbe and zayda were here.”
“I know…” Rebecca exhaled, looking up at the ceiling. Was she rolling her eyes at him? No, she started talking again and Davey realized she was trying not to cry. “…I know! I just didn’t want you gone forever.” Like mama, was left unspoken. But it was clearly understood.
David pulled her into a tight hug. He couldn’t lie to her, could he? He couldn’t promise he’d always be there, when life had shown him otherwise. “I’ll never leave you,” he finally said. They’d have to take him, kicking and screaming, before he’d willingly leave this child.
“Dinner is almost ready. Rebecca, come set the table while your uncle David gets cleaned up,” Esther called from the kitchen.
David found himself humming to himself as he washed his face and hands, and slipped on a nice shirt for Shabbat dinner. It had been months since they had made a big deal of Shabbat, as the Jacobs family clung to their grief. But this felt right, dressing up tonight.
About ten minutes later, Esther, Mayer, Rebecca, and David were settled around the table when they were interrupted by another commotion, this time at the front door. David watched his mother rise to her feet instantly at the sight of Les entering. Sarah was grief, David was disappointment, and here was the third Jacobs sibling, worry. But David noticed in surprise that Les was not alone. He was hand-in-hand with a girl. Auburn hair, freckles on her nose, she was cute as a button.
“This is Cherry. Thought I’d bring her to Shabbat,” Les announced, as though it wasn’t unusual for them to bring guests. As though Shabbat was still a special event. Seventeen year old Les was brash and careless, but he greeted his mother with a kiss and his father with a pat on the back, as was expected of him. Their faces warmed at the sight of him.
“Cherry…?” Esther repeated, and Davey knew what she was thinking. That’s not a Jewish name.
“It’s Rachel, actually,” the cute girl insisted, throwing Les such a look that davey couldn't help but admire the spunk.
“Rachel,” Esther said, a smile appearing on her face. That was definitely an appropriate name for a Jewish girl. She got up to gather more place settings and David got up to help her get some chairs.
“You know how we all go by different names on the street. They still call you Walking Mouth, Davey! Even though you ain’t out there much anymore.”
“Daddy says we don’t say ‘ain’t.’” spoke up the little voice of Rebecca at that moment, and Davey couldn’t hide his smile. Since when did Jack care about grammar?
“Your daddy is right,” said Cherry in her soft, cute voice, leaning over to pat the little girl on the head. David laughed at the frown Rebecca made at that gesture, and Cherry looked up at him, seeming to notice him for the first time. “Is that your daddy?” she asked Rebecca.
“No, that’s my Uncle Davey,” Rebecca said, and her tone of voice told everyone in the room that he might as well be the President of the United States (who saved her daddy from jail by carrying him out on his coach), he was that important. Davey smiled and sat down next to Rebecca.
“David,” he said, reaching out a hand to shake Les’s guest’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Rachel.”
It was a livelier dinner than the Jacobs family had had in quite a long time. With Les there as an appreciative audience, Mayer told jokes Davey hadn’t heard for many months. “Cherry” was a delight, complimenting Esther on just about everything, from her knishes to her tablesettings, so that by the time dinner was done, Esther was in a fine mood. It was a bigger crowd than Rebecca was used to, Davey was sure, and her lit-up eyes and rosy cheeks proved how much she was enjoying it. As for Davey, he felt a comforting peace from the Shabbat prayers, a peace he hadn’t even realized was possible anymore. The only one missing from all of this was Jack, of course, busy at the office. And Sarah, who would always be missing. A thought which pricked at the corner of Davey’s eyes, and was washed down with a swallow of the cheap wine Esther had brought out once she realized this was going to be a party.
Finally, things had settled down, and Davey was putting Rebecca to bed in his bedroom. He and Les would sleep out in the livingroom that night, if Les ever came back inside from entertaining Cherry out on the fire escape. Sarah’s old room remained uninhabited still, though Davey had briefly thought of asking his mama if Rebecca might enjoy sleeping in there. Maybe next time he’d get up the courage to ask her.
“Tell me a story about Uncle Les,” Rebecca requested once the blankets were tucked up to her chin.
Davey chuckled. “Les? I don’t have any good stories about Les,” he protested.
“Alright, then. Tell me why they call you Walking Mouth.” There was a twinkle in her eye. She was laughing at him, there was no question in his mind.
“Les, it is,” Davey said with a huff, though he was amused by her spunk. Sarah used to do the same thing to him, offering him a worse option if he didn’t agree to the first one. You don’t want to sweep the floor? Fine, then take out the chamber pots. Davey didn’t even feel the typical heartsickness at that memory. Just amusement.
Rebecca gave Davey and impatient look, and with a chuckle, Davey started talking. “Alright, then,” he repeated her earlier words. “Your Uncle Les was always on the small side. He was near ten when we met your father, but Jack told him he should lie and say he was younger, because younger sells more papers.”
Rebecca shook her head. “It’s not lying, Uncle Davey. It’s just improving the truth a little.”
“Sure, kid,” Davey said, touselling her curls slightly. “Anyway, Les was a born Newsie. But he was always a little girl crazy.” He chuckled. “When we were gearing up for our big rally, inviting all the newsies and other working boys – and girls, thanks to your mother’s insistence – Les was trying to decide who he should bring with him.”
“You mean… courtship?” Rebecca asked innocently.
“Now, what do you know about courtship?” Davey asked in surprise, louder than he meant to.
Rebecca giggled at his reaction. “Daddy’s stories are all about courtship. He is a real romantic, you know.”
“Yes, I know,” Davey said, and he couldn’t help but blush just a little bit. Thank goodness for the dim room. “I didn’t think you were interested in that kind of thing.”
“I love romance,” Rebecca said with a happy little sigh. “Did he bring Cherry with him to the rally?”
Davey shook his head. “No, I never met her before tonight,” he admitted. He didn’t elaborate on how many girls Les had gone through in the seven years since the rally. “I can’t even remember the name of the girl he brought with him. He did call her a peach, though.”
Rebecca nodded solemnly. “Uncle Les seems to enjoy fruits.”
Davey snorted with humor. The wit of his niece surpassed most adults he knew.
“What about you, uncle Davey? Do you enjoy fruits?” she asked with wide eyes. Davey inhaled too sharply and started to cough. Did he enjoy fruits? More than the typical man, he thought wryly. She frowned at his coughing, and said, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just something stuck in my throat. We aren’t supposed to be talking about me. And anyway, this is supposed to be a story to put you to sleep, but it has become an interview. What are you doing here, ace reporter? Preparing to write a story for the Sun?”
Rebecca chuckled. “You’re silly, Uncle Davey. Okay. Finish your story. I promise to rest.” To prove her point, she pulled the blanket back up to her chin, closing her mouth tightly so that she wouldn’t speak again.
Davey brushed at the curls on her face. “Uncle Les enjoys girls more than he enjoys fruits,” he said, continuing his story. “The girl he brought to the rally was a peach, though. He showed her a real good time, even though he was smaller than the other boys. It was a little bit like a fairy tale, those two kids having a fun night on the town, seeing Medda’s show, and sharing some cotton candy. But something you don’t do until you’re near ten, so don’t get any ideas.” Rebecca didn’t answer though. She had fallen asleep.
“Her name was Sally,” Les said as Davey exited the bedroom. As Davey closed the door behind him, leaving Rebecca behind in the dark room, he shushed his brother. “And she was a plum. Not a peach,” Les continued, not to be shushed by his older brother.
There was a hint of a smile on Les’s face, though. “Well, you got yourself a real fruit salad, regardless. Where’s Cherry?”
“She had to go,” Les said simply. “It’s getting pretty late.” He gestured to the empty room, showing that their parents had already retired to their room.
“And you let her walk home on her own?” Davey asked, scandalized.
“Naw. I walked her home,” Les said. “She lives real close by. Her pa owns that bakery down the street. The Jewish bakery,” he added with emphasis.
“Mama’s gonna like that,” Davey said, settling onto the makeshift bed. “...IF you keep Cherry around long enough.”
“I think I will,” Les said, turning the lamp down low. “Wouldn’t’ve brought her to meet mama if I wasn’t planning to keep her around.”
Without meaning to, Davey’s thoughts flashed to Jack, and the way he had urged his new friend to meet his folks that first day they met. Was that true about Davey, too? Had he brought Jack home with him that night because he had been planning to keep Jack around? Well, here it was seven years later, and Jack was still one of the most important people in Davey’s life. Davey couldn’t actually imagine a life without Jack in it, or Rebecca. With a hard swallow, he thought about how a year ago, he couldn’t have imagined a life without Sarah in it.
“You seem happy,” Davey said into the darkness.
To his surprise, Les said, “So do you.”